Monthly Archives: January, 2022

We also owe this freedom to Vietnamese writers who are, for many Vietnamese in the diaspora (and possibly in Vietnam), unknown to us.

News from Vietnamese Abroad►Thich Nhat Hanh, Buddhist monk and peace activist, dies at 95►Video: Japanese men assaulting Vietnamese trainee in Japan►Urgent action needed to...

This episode of ÁCCENTED will feature a panel of leaders and scholars in the mental health field. James Huynh, Danny Thien Le, Dr. Yvonne Y. Kwan, and Dr. Thu Quach will join Pulitzer-prize winning author Viet Thanh Nguyen in a conversation centering on mental health, self care, and wellness through the course of the pandemic vis-a-vis the lens of intergenerational trauma. We will explore the expanding need for mental health awareness and dialogue along with resources for older and younger generations alike, especially through the lens of anti-Asian violence and racism, intergenerational trauma, and bicultural/queer i

The language employed to tell the story is capable of determining which story the subject wants to tell and tell whom.

In 2022, She Who Has No Master(s) is initiating a creative writing mentorship program led by and designed for Vietnamese and SE Asian diasporic women and nonbinary writers. The centering of this perspective is important because in most educational settings the focus on subject matter and perspectives of women/nonbinary SE Asian diasporic women is marginal, if not totally unaddressed. These offerings fulfill a dire need in our nation’s current environment for creative writing education. Mentorship is designed so that each student receives intensive one-on-one creative writing guidance from a mentor, one of our distinguished, award-winning writers from the She Who Has No Master(s) collective. If selected for a mentorship, you will receive 4 months of tuition-free mentorship, conducted remotely from May to August 2022. Our first cohort will engage 4 students and 4 mentors.

News from Việt Nam►Hoi An is first Vietnam town to phase out dog and cat meat►Rice fields and Rihanna: the Vietnamese couturier with a...

I couldn't find grandpa’s grave after a deep-water season. Water filled like a mirror, bemused / like a candid child. Grandpa said fishermen grew by water, died of water, and turned into water.

I wish that I could tell my younger self that ao dai was not just a dress that my mother would lend me, but the dress of my motherland.